Welcome to the class blog! The John Jay - Vera Fellows Program is a collaborative effort between John Jay College and the spin-off agencies of the Vera Institute of Justice, combining an internship and participation in a seminar taught by faculty from John Jay's Interdisciplinary Studies Program. (To see a video about the John Jay - Vera Fellows Program, click here.) Part of the seminar experience is weekly participation in the class blog, which keeps the conversation going from week to week and will be a place for you to share your thoughts and concerns about the materials discussed in seminar as well as the internship experience. The opinions expressed on this blog do not necessarily reflect the views of the Vera Institute of Justice or its spin-off organizations. While the blog is open to the public and anyone, theoretically, can comment, only class members and invited guests will be able to post. You can also look for us on our student and alumni page on Facebook.
Each student has been assigned one week to write the "post." Please post within 24 hours after class. Every week, each student must comment on the post (feel free to comment more than once). Please comment by Monday afternoon to allow time for further questions and responses and so that we can read all the entries before class.

Friday, March 7, 2014

The danger of a single story

Hello Everyone,
            I am grateful for the readings of “Lawns” and “Kill the Man for Me” because the hero-villain dynamic is not clear cut. As a cohort, we struggled with the idea of Jenny father being innocent and Jenny carrying guilt. We praise the “heroine” in Kill the Man for Me after killing her abuser but do not like the idea of vigilante justice. The stories force us to read closely and critically to understand the characters. Each character has a multitude of different actions that contradict such as, Jenny’s body betraying her by reaching orgasm knowing the father’s actions are wrong and the battered woman plotting to kill her abuser.
            The stories are written in simple language but have complex themes. Themes such as power and control are not seen as one thing, but have separation to help understand the differences. We need to understand the dichotomy that exist in life, which does not separate the good from the bad but meshes it all together. As readers of the stories, we must be aware of the author’s intentions.  Mary Wings purposely does not give her female character a name and writes the story in the first person with an added perspective. Does Wings want to place the reader in her characters shoes?  Mona Simpson also writes in the first person and gives the name of her main character on the second to last page of her story. Does Simpson bait our feelings in her story by not naming her character until the very end?
I will end with some more questions do not feel an obligation to answer them all. What is the danger of telling a single story?
 At your agencies, are you given the entire story to work with? Is it ever possible to have the entire story?  
How would having the side of Jenny’s father or the battered woman’s abuser help us understand their stories?


J.T.                     

12 comments:

Unknown said...

Thank you for your post, Jaraed.

Your post reiterates Professor Stein’s point that it is much easier for us to engage in a binary analysis of complex issues rather than delve into the intricacies of stuff that is “meshed together.” For this reason, many of us in class were uncomfortable during the discussion on the possibility of Jenny’s father being innocent. I have a question: Does Jenny think that her father is innocent? For obvious reasons, she most likely believes that he is not innocent. However, if she were to move away from the extreme end of this innocence-guilt continuum, what could/would her reasoning be?

On the issue of characters’ names in “Lawns,” I believe that naming the character earlier would not have had any significant impact on the story’s outcomes and our reaction to it. That said, the author uses Jenny’s name to inject some depth into the story. As such, it helps us reduce the broad problem of rape into an individual experience, thereby making the subject somewhat easier to study. However, when I think about the absence of names in “Kill the Man for Me,” I remember the cliché expression: “don’t be a statistic.” In this sense, the writer may have thought that she did not need to name her characters since they are all but a number on the psychologist’s expanding list of domestic violence victims.

Have a great weekend!

Prof. Stein said...

I love the questions Jaraed raises, none of which I have ever thought about in many years of teaching this story.

My first thought was about naming. In class we talked about the insufficiency of language. Jaraed made me think about what we name and how often it is just a label with no real meaning. The criminal justice system, in particular, seems to name things and people with words like guilt and innocence but completely decontextualize them. I also thought about all the things we do not name because we would rather not make them substantive. It is easier to objectify than name a thing for what it is.

In thinking about the authors' intentions in not naming characters, i wondered whether these were sly asides to the namelessness of victims and the interchangeability of perpetrators.

Finally, I shot straight up with Jaraed's question about the stories we hear at the agencies. Of course, we almost never get multiple perspectives. Maybe that would make the work impossible.

Jean Martin Charcot, a 19th century neurologist and forerunner of Freud, said "In the last analysis, we see only what we are ready to see,what we have been taught to see. We eliminate and ignore everything that is not a part of our prejudices. To know everything is to forgive everything." He said it in French, though, which made it sound even more important!

Jaraed said...

James-

I believe there is difficulty in saying whether Jenny believes in the father’s innocence. Her guilt manifests throughout the story because of the action of stealing the letters. I would like to draw attention that the story told through adult eyes. How are we sure if as a child, she did not see the father as innocent in response to her oppressive mother? In addition, there is a point when Jenny realizes the relationship between her and father is not normal. I believe analyzing Jenny at various stages of development will help us arrive at the answer.

Why did Jenny not stop the father after internalizing that the relationship was not right?

Did Jenny have something to gain by not acknowledging the relationship?

Unknown said...

Thanks for the great post, Jared!

Because I think both previous comments succinctly answered the dynamic of namelessness and their impacts, I would like to explore the question of knowing the entire story in our organizations. I think it boils down to the childhood saying that "there are always three sides to every story: yours, mine, and the truth." In all, I would like to second Prof. Stein's notion getting the absolute truth is impossible. Moreover, getting the entire story adds even more complexity to already complicated situations.

For example, There was a young female eligible for entry to my agency. She was being charged with a felony and had an open misdemeanor case from another county upstate. She just turned 18 years old and was living in a group home because her mother has substance abuse issues. At arraignment, the judge was ready to release her to our program until a warrant hold was issued from the other county. They wanted to extradite her and prosecute so bail war set at $1,500 (the D.A asked for $10,000 bail). Normally, other counties will not extradite for misdemeanors, so this was very unusual. Obviously, these crimes are a cry for attention and help, and now she is going to be housed in Rikers until BOTH cases are resolved, and either of these cases can result in a sentence of more time in prison or jail. I felt conflicted. She is now legally considered an adult and the law will treat her as such. The D.A has enough evidence to indict and is confident of her guilt. Both herself and the D.A would have very contrasting accounts of her story, but where is the truth? Where is the middle ground.

I think there are similarities between this girl and the stories we read. Who are we to judge the complex situations of either of those characters? Or this girl's? In all, we can't really say if we know the truth or not because everyone's perspective influences what they say.

Imtashal Tariq said...

“Lawns” brings about this theme of long-term incestuous rape and dealing with a loss of innocence, a loss of adolescence, discovering love, and experiencing confusing sexual emotions while consenting. After our discussion I realized that Mona Simpson’s reason for writing about Jenny’s reactionary theft is keen, as is as the idea of self-blaming after rape and emotional abuse. James, I’m not sure if Jenny thinks if her father is innocent or not but I can say that in the end, Jenny is lonely because she has lost the love from both Glenn and her father at the same time.

After reading “Lawns”, I realized that there’s a good chance that Simpson has written about something rare…like one in a million rare, but in actuality the story of Jenny is more common than you realize. I thought about the behaviors of people and those behaviors were an attribute to something similar to what happen to Jenny. Abuse whether it be physical, sexual and/or psychological surely must shape the personality of the individual being abused. Too often, at my agency I forget to look at the background of a client I am dealing with. I have noticed vulnerable clients at my agency and I need to remember to take into account their history, professionally. This of course takes time and a great deal of communication.

Simonne Isaac said...

Thank you Jaraed for a wonderful post.

I beg to disagree with Imtashal when she said that "Jenny is lonely because she has lost the love from both Glenn and her father at the same time." I agree that Jenny is lonely but I think she has not lost the love of her father. I think she'll always have his love both paternal and romantic. He's too needy to stop loving her. I agree that she is lonely because she lost Glenn. I think there is a two-fold reason for that. One, she loved him and two, Glenn was her escape from her father, so to speak. She channeled all her energies and love into him, probably subconsciously, to avoid dealing with her father just as she chose to go away to college to avoid him.

I agree with Professor Stein and Anthony. I do not think it is ever possible to get the whole story. Anthony pointed out the three sides of a story, and somewhere the three sides meet and it is at the intersection that we would find the truth. At my agency, we deal with victims/survivors of domestic violence. I am of the firm belief that there is never a justification for abuse no matter who the initiator was. In this case, I don't think knowing the whole story will make a difference. Maybe knowing the other side would help us to be empathetic but empathy is not acceptance or justification. There are some situations though where knowing the other side might help in solving the problem, such as was described by Anthony. That's just my view, but now as I write this, I am wondering if I am choosing to be selective as to empathy and understanding. I'm also wondering if I am doing what Professor Stein talked about; that of wanting our clients a particular way.

Spencer said...

Thank you Jared for this post.

As I expressed in class, (coined here more eloquently through Jared’s post), the danger of the “single story” is ever apparent in analyzing the innocence of the perpetrators of sexual abuse in both stories. Now by no means am I justifying the rape of the two victims in the readings, but I do believe it would be much easier to analyze their innocence if we understood their perspectives. As Professor Reitz mentioned in class, these perpetrators of violent sexual crime can have the same “Gendel” effect if we read their stories.

For example, let’s isolate the incident in Grendel where he violently violated the new Queen of the kingdom by exposing her genital area to fire. If we just read that part of the story, we would only see Grendel as a perpetrator of violent crime against a women (a monster if you will). I only say this in support of giving people like that help to solve their issues and hopefully remedy others like them before they act again. The vigilante justice approach of murder only removes one violent sexual abuser from the streets but it does not negate the problems that exist in others who do the same.

A say this coming from a place where many of my friends, whom for many reasons committed violent crimes for allegiance to gangs, were seen as monsters themselves. I strongly believe that if people knew the reasons behind this “monster” rationale, they would understand that the issues of the perpetrator are much deeper than that of the isolated incident.

Apollonia said...

I felt that the choice on the part of the authors to not name their main characters (or to name them at the very end of the story) allowed us to view the story as a whole; a story without attributing the situation to that person alone. We oftentimes attribute actions and crimes of a violent and sexual nature to the individual alone and when we do this, we then assert ourselves in the camp of "That would never happen to me"; the fundamental attribution error occurs, and this isn't helping anyone.

This also happens, though, when we choose not to name our characters, thus, effectively dehumanizing them and reducing them to nothing more than statistics. Again, this then makes the situation and issue so far removed from us as a society- because what is more objective than numbers- that we do not think to push for reform or revolution because nothing more than the rape of a number has happened.

These are things to keep in mind as we proceed into our journey to become social justice leaders. It's easy to become removed from the issue by assigning names numbers in hopes of remaining objective. In speaking of the *victims* and *perpetrators* of crimes such as rape, we have to understand that although there might be underlying reasons behind why the father and husband raped the main characters, we are dealing with different situations and different populations that need to be seen differently and through different lenses. When we begin to examine why the main characters might be/feel "guilty" and why the father/husband might be/feel "innocent" we are placing them on the same playing field when they shouldn't be.

Yes, there might be reasons (like the all-too common hope that those who rape were traumatized in their youth, thus creating a magical cycle that excuses and justifies their actions on some level) why the father/husband did what they did, but we cannot compare them or speak of them to the same level or regard as the actions that they themselves have committed. In speaking of the father/husband, we have to turn the conversation to speaking of the faults of our society and institutions that allow this type of violence to happen. We have to be conscious of what allows them to perpetrate these acts of violence and how they have been victimized as a result. When speaking of the main characters, we have to understand that although a larger system is at play, they are only "guilty" of living in a patriarchal society that allows this to happen.

I hope this all makes sense!

Much Love

Unknown said...

Thanks for the post Jaraed; especially considering you also will be doing another one when you have your class! Good job!

I have to say, Spencer’s comment on vigilantism really resonates with me. While walking home Thursday evening, I found myself once again thinking about the vigilantism factor of “Kill the Man for Me.” I first agree with Spencer that there is an inherent problem with vigilantism since it only removes one individual from the streets. Vigilantes can almost be seen as selfish, since no amount of vigilante efforts by an individual (unless its Batman) can ever truly eradicate a problem, but instead only serves the purpose of validating the vigilante as a “do-gooder” or a “hero.” I would even go as far as to take Spencer’s though a step further and say that vigilante justice actually causes even greater problems than it solves.

After thinking about the issue of vigilantism I came to the following conclusion. Although we can easily sympathize with the reasons for engaging in vigilantism, I do not believe these efforts are justifiable. When one engages in vigilantism they are essentially making a statement that the formal means of addressing a problem are inadequate. The problem that arises from this is that if we support one form of vigilantism, why not another, and then another. When do we draw the line on the types of crimes or the types of circumstances in which it is justifiable to pursue vigilante justice? I do not believe that line can ever be adequately drawn to the extent that I can find myself supporting any form of vigilante justice, because if you support it in one circumstance, it is quite difficult to reject it in another. If we then find ourselves at the point where we then say we support vigilante justice in its entirety, I would then argue that once we give in to this mindset, we completely reject any potential for institutional reform and fall into a state of anarchy that rejects the ability of the state of change. Although historically this type of change tends to take longer than most people would like, if we try to solve the problem ourselves, like the woman in “Kill the Man for Me,” we only serve selfish ends, rather than trying to serve the greater good by supporting and catalyzing reform.

Unknown said...

Hi Everyone,

I am so mad that I had to miss this class. Thanks for a great discussion, guys, and thanks for getting this going Jaraed!

First, I agree with Michael in that we cannot necessarily justify vigilantism and forgive criminal actions by considering the history of the perpetrator, or the reasons why he may have done so. Doing so can create a slippery slope, as Michael said, and can unintentionally downplay the legitimacy of the victim's trauma and of the crime.

However, I also recognize the importance of acknowledging these stories because they *can* be the roots of these crimes, but they do not justify them, be it poverty or patriarchy. This was really made clear to me the past semester at ATP. I attended two different federal sex trafficking hearings, and all of the defendants, who were guilty of trafficking multiple women, and subjecting them to indescribable physical and mental torment, came from extreme poverty. All of the defendants were barely literate, and their families (in this case in Mexico) were completely financially dependent on the profit they made off of the trade. They were born into families that had a monopoly on the sex trade, and almost had no choice in taking part in it. In both cases, the attorneys cited their client's family history and while it seemed like a sleazy attempt to get the judge to lighten their sentences, they really were legitimate factors that influenced these mens lives. Is it okay to ignore this fact all together to avoid focusing too much on the traffickers and less on the victims? Or is this eerily similar history in traffickers indicative of deeper roots that need to be addressed?

It is difficult to decide what aspect of social justice should be focused on, but I think a wholesome approach that serves the current needs of the victims, while addressing policies that reinforce these crimes, is ideal. Unfortunately, however, this is much easier said than done.

Professor Reitz said...

Wow, I think this is my favorite blog discussion of the year -- so thoughtful and genuinely written. Thanks, Jaraed and Verons.

I have many half-processed thoughts, though Prof Stein and I continued our seminar discussion long after class and your comments/concerns stayed with me powerfully throughout the day.

While I agree with all of the "gray area" reasoning you provide here (structural violence, the dangers of theorizing from an isolated incident), I don't want to let go of assigning individual responsibility in these stories; in other words, while the namelessness seems predominant, I choose instead to see that Simpson does name these characters (and that Wings gives us a named second narrator) precisely so as not to allow us to move away from the sense of these as the specific stories of individuals, of being able to locate harm quite specifically.

I also see both of these stories, in agreement with many of your comments here, as tales less of evil than of selfishness, the making of someone else an object so you can be who you need to be. I think this is why Gardner has the first encounter between Grendel and men be the tree scene where are first they think Grendel is the tree (but with a funky curse). Grendel never moves too far from this moment of objectification and his deeply philosophical struggles to find his subjectivity are as much about being "not-tree" as they are about being more human.

Prof. Stein said...

This has also been my favorite blog so far; I feel as if every sentence deserves a 360 degree inspection and response. I will limit myself to a couple of thoughts.

A few of you replied to James' question of whether Jenny found her father innocent. First, I very much believe that we all hold conflicting ideas at the same time; hence the paradoxes of human behavior. This cognitive and affective multiplicity becomes the default mode in trauma, as we try desperately to make meaning from meaningless circumstances. So I would guess that, while a part of Jenny knows her father acted villainously, another part blames herself so that she can still love and depend on him, another part pities him for being in love with her so that she can feel special, and another part may-at least sometimes-block out all memory of what happened so that she can feel "normal". How else can she survive such an assault?

If the criminal justice system took into account not only all the perspectives of all of the players but the multiplicity of responses they evoke in us, we would find it hard if not impossible to imprison people. Personally, I find that a good thing. I am aware, however, that it is not a widely shared view. For the most part, we collude in the objectification that obscures other perspectives. If you have not read the article I sent you about the "cannibal cop", you should force yourself. You'll never find a better monster. That's why he is in prison, despite the fact he did not do-and most likely would not in the future do-anything except present the most convenient of targets.